


What I do for love...

by Nintendoge



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Roman's a complete drama queen while ill and you can fight me on this, Sick fic!, i don't really know how to tag it its just fluffy guys, it's Virgil trying to take care of Roman, trying being the main word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 14:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15026813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nintendoge/pseuds/Nintendoge
Summary: Roman needs to learn to take better care of himself so Virgil doesn’t need to deal with the difficulties of having a melodramatic, sickness induced, terribly cuddly boyfriend and his wild ideas. (University AU or something like that)





	What I do for love...

**Author's Note:**

> What’s up guys i started this many moons ago and im finally finishing it. Tonight’s a fic night. 
> 
> I live for Roman being melodramatic while sick i’m sorry. 
> 
> I’m 100% aware I can’t end oneshots to save myself. I know i can’t guys i’m trying though xD 
> 
> If you like this maybe send prompts my way idk (my sanders sides blog is Poundland-Twoface). There’s more writing to come eventually.
> 
> I don’t think there’s any warnings to give… There’s like one (1) f-bomb in here i think and that’s about it? But do let me know if I should tag anything else. 
> 
> other than that uhhh, lemme know what you think in the comments maybe?

“You look like death.”    
  
These were the first words uttered from Virgil as he slid in through the door of Roman’s Room. Before arriving, Virgil was considerably concerned. All week-long Roman had tried to parade through a mild hindrance of an illness despite all of Virgil, Logan and Patton telling Roman to rest up. It was noticeable from the start of the week as it started with nothing more than a snuffly nose. However, Roman Prince-Charming, the lovable jackass, continued onwards with ignoring his physical health.

That mindset changed after compulsory education though. Once he figured out he could get his friends to do what he wanted. Virgil played along as he figured he’s already run down enough so getting more physically ill might be impossible for him. Logan was quick to burst this logic but it didn’t stop Virgil from having a bit of fun running after a very petty Roman. Virgil would never admit this though. 

Although Roman was great at being theatrical and shrugging off his problems, Virgil still worried and tried  _ begging _ him to take it easy everyday. Even Patton tried getting through to Roman by tempting him with home-baked treats, and Disney marathons. Not even an offer from Logan for assistance with his Spanish essay could sway him. So, as adamant as ever, Roman continued being Roman. 

Admittedly, upon walking into his boyfriend’s dorm, Virgil’s mind was racing with the worst possible imagery of what could have happened to Roman over the course of 16 hours.

Virgil was amazing as catastrophizing, it was his self-claimed talent. Yet, upon entering… Roman wasn’t dead on the floor which was nice. But he didn’t look  _ good. _ He was breathing which was a definite bonus to calm down Virgil’s non stop train of overthinking. Virgil wasn’t quite sure what he was anticipating, however, it wasn’t really a rugged Roman, lying in the middle of the floor face down in the darkness. 

“Everything...  **_hurts…_ ** ” Roman rasped, rolling over to look at Virgil. The usual booming voice of roman, full of life and expression was reduced to what sound a rake makes when dragged across a concrete floor. 

The colour was gone from Roman’s rosy face and his distracted gaze seemed to be looking through Virgil, almost as if he wasn’t even there. Gone were the extravagant clothes, and to replace them, a surprisingly pristine white t-shirt and a pair of black jogging bottoms. Virgil thought about grabbing the nearest mirror to show Roman what he truly looked like with his hair sticking up at odd angles and the now visible bags under his eyes screaming exhaustion at the poor emo nightmare. 

Virgil sits down besides the fallen prince, cross legged as he gently takes a hold of one of Roman’s hands and squeezes it lovingly. Roman hums and clumsily shuffles towards Virgil’s touch, a bit like a cat that doesn’t want to to stop being stroked.

Virgil takes his free hand to press against Roman’s forehead, “You’re really hot Roman…” He murmurs, trying to get Roman to actually sit up as opposed to curling into him. 

“I know I am thanks for-” Roman started saying, a bit of his cocky charm showing through before turned his head away from Virgil to descend into cacophonous coughs. 

Virgil watched Roman cough for a moment with a bored, unimpressed gaze. Whether this was more towards himself or the fact that Roman blatantly strained his own vocal cords was unclear. Leaning closer, Virgil reached round Roman to rub his back in some form of comfort.

“That’s what you get for trying to sass me when you look like you ain’t slept for 3 nights, princey.” Virgil Deadpanned as he started to get up, much to Roman’s dismay. His disappointment only went on as he whined quietly before breaking out into another fit of coughs and eventually slouching. 

“Well  _ you _ don’t look that bad today and using Logan’s ‘Logic’ of us all having the same faaa- achoo!- ace-- bleh. I shouldn’t look that bad!” Roman croaked out with as much umph and energy as he could muster before almost folding in on himself from the ferocity of the sneeze.. 

“Not how it works princey, not today. Anyway, I look awful.” Virgil replies, still digging around in his rucksack by the door. 

“No you do not! Take that ba-back!” Roman protested, the strain on his voice obvious as it became quieter and quieter. Which didn’t help seeing as it was already a bit muffled due to Roman not sitting back up properly and pretty much talking into his shirt. It’s the thought that counted though! Right? How Virgil could say he looks ‘Awful’ dumbfounded Roman to no end. To Roman, Virgil always looked… angelic. 

Sure, today was a day that Roman could notice the lack of makeup allowing Virgil’s dark bags to be more present and the obvious neglect of a hairbrush showed a more rustic and untamed side of Virgil… But Virgil’s hair still looked as soft as as ever, the purple, slightly curly bangs swept across his head as opposed to over his eyes. It was days like this where Virgil didn't put any foundation on where Roman felt… envious. Virgil had a few natural blemishes sure, but there wasn't anything too dire. And it was a rare moment to witness the identical flush of freckles that painted constellations on Virgil’s tired face. Roman on the other hand, knew he looked like a trainwreck without makeup on. Makeup usage and general stress meant regular breakouts sadly.

Just as Virgil started walking to his bag that got dumped by the door, Roman sighed heavily. 

“This  _ sucks _ ! This is awful, I sully the good Prince-Charming name! What kind of person am I if I can’t even get myself off the floor! My acting career is going to be over-- I’m going to  _ DIE  _ here--” 

Roman started making these extravagant claims, falling dramatically onto his back and using grand gestures before Virgil swiftly cut him off by looming over with a thermal flask in one hand and a blanket in the other. Virgil dropped the blanket straight onto Roman’s head carelessly and smiled to himself as he watch the melodramatic boy fight for vision from his temporary cloaking. 

“How dare y-you! I'm blinded, handicapped,  **_BETRAYED_ ** by my own boyfriend!” Roman yapped, only to be muffled by his lack of voice and fluffy blanket. Once Roman’s head popped out, Virgil returned to his unimpressed expression, yet traces of amusement could still be identified fairly easily from the involuntary curl of his lips.   
  
“Shut up and drink this.” Virgil demanded, as he sat down once again, still offering the flask and allowing himself to smile through the instruction. Roman knew fairly well that Virgil survived daily on green tea and it somehow kept him healthy enough to function, so he gladly accepted it and took careful sips from the cup. 

“Thank you for this… you are certainly my saviour on this great day~” Roman speaks, a bit more bravado behind his voice, but it was still croaky, sickly and getting quieter. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You need to get a proper rest now, come on. You don’t listen all week and now I have to physically get you to listen with green tea and--” Virgil’s mini, joking rant was cut short by Roman shuffling into a closer position and nuzzling his head on Virgil’s Shoulder. 

As if it was automatic, Virgil wrapped an arm around him. It’s taken an excruciatingly long time for their relationship to be like this, where Virgil was so open to physical contact, but now they were here. It was kind of nice. 

“... physical affection.” He finished with a grumble. 

“You love it though, Charlie Frown.” Roman hums, taking careful sips of the scalding hot tea, earning a scoff from Virgil as a reply. A comfortable silence followed for a minute before Roman finally felt a bit of strength in his voice.

“Thank you Virge… I mean it.” 

“Oh I know you mean it.”  Virgil replied, snark dripping from his words, before placing a soft kiss on Roman’s head. The very act made Roman’s heart melt. “Otherwise you’d still be here wailing on the floor, probably worrying about your next project or something else instead of- oh I don’t know, thinking about your poor, poor immune system.” Virgil chuckled, resting his head on Roman’s. There was a moment of silence before Roman sounded like he wanted to yell, but it came out as a little squeak of displeasure. 

“Oh for the love of Aphrodite-- how could I  _ forget!”  _ Roman started squirming next to Virgil, softly battling against the blanket and the emo wrapped around him. Virgil, somewhat confused by the sudden movement, tried to keep holding Roman. To be honest the panic in Roman’s voice was obvious and at this point Virgil didn’t know if he was holding on for Roman’s sake or his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s up? What did you forget?” Virgil spoke as calmly as he could manage; which was about as calm as you sound when you drop an entire carton of milk but it hasn’t quite registered, so you’re emptily staring at the growing mess with undeniable dread before the situation crashes down on you. Virgil maintained this calmness while softly wrestling with Roman. If you could call it that. It was more of Roman batting the blankets off with little effort and Virgil trying to keep the drama student wrapped up until the two had began this sloppy dance of sorts.

“The dress rehearsal Virgil! How could I forget ugh… I was just enjoying that moment as well, it’s such a shame it was cut short…” He mumbled, pushing himself away and standing up. “Well one more day me! I’ve got to let this cold know who’s boss!” 

Roman stood there for a moment, hands on his hips, near completely oblivious to his swaying. Virgil stood up next to Roman and watched as the other continued to wobble on the spot. 

“You uh. You sure about that Ro?” Virgil wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist to steady him just as the drama student’s knees gave way and Virgil, somehow, held the dead weight. A soft whine came from Roman’s throat as he tried his best to get his footing, 

“It’s like i’m standing on a darn bouncy castle…” he grumbles, before being swept off his feet with ease. 

“Yeah you’re going nowhere.” Virgil insists, carrying Roman over to his bed. 

“Noooo, what will I do about the rehearsal Virge?” Roman whines, as Virgil begins to lower him to bed gently. 

“Not go. Text someone. Sleep the day away. Take care of yourself like a normal human being.” Virgil rattled off monotonously, perching on the edge of the bed. 

“I can't do that! What will they all do? They can't rehearse without the star!” Roman cried, tugging on Virgil’s hoodie ever so slightly to pull him down, “If only there was a way I could be there, even to just, read my dang lines…” He crumbled, his voice barely audible as he finally got Virgil to lie beside him (not without quiet grumbles of course).

“I mean you could if you didn't sound like a broken vacuum cleaner.” Virgil snickered, “When is the thing? I'll go and tell them you're dying and watch their panicked reactions.” He deadpanned with a smirk.

“Virge…” Roman Grumbled, doing his best pout of defiance and folding his arms across his chest like a petulant child.

“Fine, fine, no death mentions. But I will tell them you're too ill. WHICH YOU ARE.” Virgil reinforced, trying to rearrange himself to make the embrace more comfortable for the pair of them.

“It starts at 2…” Roman sighed, finally dropping his tense stance, “But Virgil, I can't let them down like this…” 

“If you continue acting like a damn hero all the time you're going to collapse under the stress. You're only human, please, I beg you,-” Virgil huffed, an underlying wave of genuine concern crashed into his words that nearly drowned Roman in the impact, but with a grin he finished the quote in unison with Virgil. 

“Remember that.” The words were soft, Roman’s held a joyous ring to it, while Virgil’s was much more melancholy and droning, but nevertheless, the two together gave you a difficult to place emotion that was simply stunning to hear. 

The two sat and stared at each other for a moment, no words being said as if there was some silent agreement was made. Before long however, Roman began to chuckle, trying not to choke as he did. 

“You know Virgil, you know my lines fairly well…” Roman started slowly, eyes glancing to his lap to draw away from the beauty which was Virgil for a brief moment, “Annnnnnd we have the same face…” Roman drawled on slowly, letting the realisation of what was being said crash onto Virgil.

“No. Absolutely not, get that idea out of your head.” Virgil protested, shaking his head, causing Roman to look up to Virgil with a sad and pleading gaze. 

“Come on Peter Panic… even just for one act? One scene? Just so the others can have a singular scene?” Roman continued to plead, pulling out the big shots: Puppy dog eyes. 

Virgil sat, staring at the pleading gaze, keeping a neutral grimace on his face despite his gut erupting with butterflies and his heart begging for him to continue playing along. His mind, ever-waring with his heart, was pointing out all the bad that could come of this like the one shopping list you follow because it’s detrimental that you actually use one this time. The embarrassment that can come with failure, the possibility of the rest of the cast seeing straight through the facade, the being around more than one extrovert part. Ugh. It all seemed a little bit too much, but in the moment of looking to Roman, eyes wide and pleading- Virgil crumbled. 

“.... Fine. One scene, then I’m excusing myself.” he grumbled.

Roman sat up quickly (maybe a little too fast because a rush of dizziness took him for a brief moment), and pulled the biggest grin Virgil has seen all dang week. 

“Thankyou,Thankyou,Thankyou-” The drama student whisper-yelled with pure bliss, as he swung his legs off the bed to sit beside and cuddle his boyfriend. “This is going to be fantastic! Don’t worry, I’ll grab you the script and oh-! We need to put a small bit of makeup on, no good turning up with those dark circles--” And he continued rambling off the ‘Small’ and ‘Subtle’ differences they had as he attempted to stand up once again. Only to fall back down. 

Virgil caught him in a side hug with an amused expression.

“How about you tell me where your shit is and we get this over and done with?” Virgil grunted, trying to sound annoyed but it obviously failed. Although he’d never admit it, but he was interested to see what would happen. And getting his makeup done by his boyfriend sounded… fun. 

So it began. The scramble around the small flat for the few things that would allow this harebrained plan to go into action. Virgil soon returned with Roman’s overfilled makeup bag and wad of scripts (as well as snacks) for this to begin. 

It took longer than most makeup routines, mainly because neither of the two could take the situation seriously and broke out into giggles at most opportunities when Roman wasn’t having to pause to cough, sneeze or stop due to the headache growing far too difficult. Friendly quips were thrown around, some about the vibrancy of Roman’s makeup (and how Virgil would fight Roman if the bright magenta lip liner made it anywhere near his face even if he was ill), or about the poor state of Virgil’s dark circles causing for multiple layers of foundation.

The makeover was a process neither were prepared for, but it was fun. It took Roman’s mind off the awful illness he had and the worries regarding the rehearsal; while the feeling of the careful application of makeup relaxed Virgil to the point of drowsiness as he lost himself in Roman’s talents. 

When it was over, it was a bit shocking for Virgil to see himself, and a bit disorientating for Roman to look and see a better version of himself. 

The foundation further refined the smoothness of Virgil’s skin and gave it a brighter glow that Roman wasn’t used to. This was also helped with the accompaniment of blush across Virgil’s cheekbones which made them pop and stand out boldly. The eye shadow was softer than Roman’s usual extravagant displays. It was still dynamic, there being a gradient from black on the inner corners of his eyelids to a bold red on the outer edges. Virgil’s dark eyes, much darker than Roman’s honey coloured ones, emphasised with expertly applied winged eyeliner, drawing attention to them. 

Virgil couldn’t believe it. It felt weird. But it looked  _ so good. _ Sure, it was outside of his colour scheme, and he looked a little too alive (His aesthetic was to really capture the dead inside university student look day-by-day), but. It worked. 

After the time it took, the two boys sat admiring the artistry on Virgil’s face lazily and before they knew it, they were lying cozily side by side in Roman’s single bed, laughing about memories from their past. 

The longer they spoke, the more cuddly Roman became, throwing his arms and legs around Virgil much like a Koala.

“Ro’.... I’m gonna catch whatever the fuck you have if you do this,” Virgil complained lightly, delicately trying to push his boyfriend’s face away from his own.

“Mmm, you won’t…. M’promise.” Roman mumbled out, letting his head be pushed until it found its place in the curve of Virgil’s neck.

There wasn’t an awful lot Virgil could do right now. For the first time today, Roman wasn’t coughing his lungs up, or working through a box of tissues an hour, or complaining about the pain he felt. He was relaxed, soothed and had a blissful innocence to his expression that melted Virgil’s apparently cold heart. 

“You better keep that promise. Or you know how next week’s gonna go.” Virgil threatened lightly, letting his own eyes close as he indulged in the warmth of his clingy boyfriend. 

There was a small rumble against his chest, almost a laugh, but it was so soft from the sleep-like state of Roman, that it almost felt like a kitten carefully purring. 

And that’s how the day progressed, both of them sleeping through the rhythmic  _ pings _ of phone notifications inevitably from concerned friends, worried cast members and the odd family member checking in. 

 

The world could wait while the two of them got their rightful sleep they failed to get the night before.  


End file.
